Drafting a Marriage
by vw-power
Summary: Minister Shacklebolt realizes the wizarding world is shrinking and proposes a marriage law, seeking input from Hogwarts. A more … capitalist … version of the cliché marriage law fic.
1. Chapter 1

**Drafting A Marriage**

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**A/N:** Don't own, well, anything related to Harry Potter. That's JKR's creation, not mine. Since she wouldn't touch this story idea if her life depended on it, I suppose I have to claim that ... unless someone else has seen or created such an abomination. Then I will gladly give credit to them ...

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**Chapter 1**

Kingsley squirmed uncomfortably in his chair, feeling like a firstie caught out of bounds. The cause of his squirming was one Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, as she glared down at the man with a most loathsome look. He couldn't shake this feeling despite the fact that Kingsley was the Minister of Magic and arguably the most powerful man in the British Wizarding World; okay, second most powerful man behind Harry Potter. But he was up there nonetheless.

Deciding to appeal to McGonagall's pragmatic nature, Kingsley pleaded, "Minerva, please tell me you see a different path we can take? My conscious is telling me this is wrong, but reality tells me it must be done. Help me find a better solution."

This did the trick, as the once-stern features slowly morphed into pity, then concentration. "Let me see those numbers again," Minerva asked, reaching her hand across the desk. She was holding out a small glimmer of hope that there might be an error and this situation would just go away.

After pouring through the figures, charts, and scenarios with Kingsley for a good hour, both parties felt the cold weight of reality settle over them. After another hour spent discussing ideas that were - at best - half-baked, the Headmistress sat back and rubbed her face. She looked over to the Minister of Magic, who looked equally weary and said, "Sometimes it feels like this group of students seem destined to carry all of our burdens."

* * *

"Harry?" Hermione called out softly.

She quickly scanned the immediate area and noticed a patch of grass that looked a little … flatter … than everywhere else. Slowly she approached the spot and reached out her hand gingerly until she felt the smooth fabric of the invisibility cloak. Rather than pull the cloak away, she kept her hand open and trailed around its shape, guiding her to an unoccupied spot beside him. Sitting down in the grass, she gazed at the two headstones in front of her – James and Lily Potter's headstones.

"How did you know I was here?" came the quiet voice seemingly from the ether to her right.

Hermione shrugged lightly. "I knew you wanted to get away from everyone and honestly the choices are somewhat limited. It's the Burrow, Grimmauld Place, Godric's Hollow … that's about all that came to mind."

A few moments of comfortable silence passed before the disembodied voice returned. "Did you find your parents?"

Hermione's brow crinkled and she began to absently chew on her lip. "Yes," she started slowly. "They're okay. Not very happy with me, but safe at least. I don't know if they'll come back to England though …"

"Do you have someplace to stay?" Harry interrupted.

"At the Burrow. Ron and Ginny are starting to come around after Fred's death, so it's a bit better there." Hermione nervously glanced over at the spot where Harry sat. "I'm sure Ginny would love to see you, Harry."

The blank spot beside her took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. "I know. I just don't know if I'm ready for that."

Hermione nodded sympathetically and patted what she figured was his back. "When you're ready, just stop on by." Despite sounding like a farewell, Hermione remained seated on the grass. "Harry?" she started again in a quiet voice.

"Hmm?"

"Have you thought about returning to Hogwarts? Professor McGonagall stopped by the Burrow this morning and said we're all welcome to come back. You could complete your education and we could try and have a normal year for a change."

Harry snorted softly before replying, "Nothing is ever normal at Hogwarts."

Hermione couldn't help but chuckle and release a small smile at that, before returning to idly plucking the grass blades in front of her.

The silence was broken when Harry sighed, saying, "But, it still feels more like home than any place I've been."

This time Hermione couldn't help but break into a huge smile and attempted to hug the man sitting next to her.

Breaking her reverie, she heard Harry's muffled voice. "Hermione? You're smothering me with your … uh …"

Hermione squeaked and jumped back away from her friend, blushing deeply.

* * *

"So Harry's going back to Hogwarts?" Ginny repeated, her eyes looking considerably brighter than they had in months.

"For the hundredth time, yes!" exclaimed Hermione, rolling her eyes. "Professor McGonagall even wanted him to be Head Boy, but he refused. He didn't want special treatment and figured that since he wasn't a Prefect he wasn't deserving."

"Typical," muttered Ginny. "He's too noble for his own good sometimes."

"Or too self-conscious," whispered Hermione. Shaking her head, she continued, "Since no one took NEWTs last year, I'm guessing there will be several people from our class who will return." At this point she looked over to Ron expectantly.

"Fine, I'll go," Ron groused. "Between you and Mum, it will be about the only place I will get some relief from the constant badgering."

"And all the food you can eat," Ginny reminded him.

Ron's gaze took on a misty look and his face rearranged itself into a placid, half smile.

* * *

The Welcoming Feast felt different than in years past. Gone was the dark cloud of impending doom that seemed to hang over the proceedings every year, but it had been replaced by sadness as many remembered the last time they had gathered in this very spot.

Also different were the students themselves. Despite essentially comprising two classes, the 7th year student body was the smallest due to the attrition brought about by the war. Most of the muggle-born and half-blood students went into hiding or were killed, while many of those who were at least neutral to Lord Voldemort's cause decided to be tutored or transferred to Durmstrang. In Slytherin, only Blaise Zabini, Daphne Greengrass, and Tracey Davis remained. The only students who openly supported Voldemort and were not either in prison or dead were Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson. Both chose tutoring rather than returning to Hogwarts.

After the sorting ceremony and feast, Minerva McGonagall stepped up to the platform and cleared her throat. "Welcome to Hogwarts! It gives me great joy that we are once again able to come together as a school family, especially after the trials we faced last year. While we may be small in number, we are strong in spirit." Several students, and the Headmistress herself, put on a forced smile at these words.

"For those of you who are new or have short memories, the forbidden forest is out of bounds unless accompanied by a professor. There is a list of banned items on Mr. Filch's office door, as well as a condensed list in the official school manual." Secretly Minerva was proud with how she crafted this scheme, essentially providing a 'real' list of banned items rather than relying on the all-encompassing list Filch created every year.

"Please join me in welcoming our Head Boy and Head Girl this year, Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger." Deafening applause filled the hall; even the Slytherins joined in with polite applause of their own. After Harry turned her down, Minerva could think of no other candidate more fitting than Neville after his leadership at the school in the face of Snape and the Carrows.

"Now get some rest as tomorrow will be a busy day. Please follow your prefects to the common rooms. All except the Head Boy and Head Girl, who I need to meet with to discuss some administrative items. Good evening, everyone!"

With these final words, the Great Hall became a chaotic world filled with students darting in all directions and loud chatter echoing off the stone floor and walls. Hermione and Neville exchanged quizzical looks before attempting to navigate their way toward the staff table. The Headmistress hadn't said anything about a meeting, but they figured it just slipped her mind in light of all the other preparations for the day.

* * *

"Good evening, Hermione. Neville."

The two students swirled around at the sound of the deep baritone voice behind them after they entered the Headmistress' office.

"Minister Shacklebolt, you shouldn't do that!" Minerva admonished after seeing the two students shakily re-pocket their wands.

Having the decency to look abashed, Kingsley nodded in agreement before slipping into one of the chairs arranged in a front of the fireplace. Minerva joined him in the informal seating arrangement to try and lighten the mood as much as possible.

"So …" Neville began, his eyes flicking back and forth between the Minister and Headmistress. "What did you want to discuss?"

Minerva stared at Kingsley, silently communicating that this was his discussion. The Minister looked down resignedly before turning to the students, the grim expression still etched on his face. "We have a problem. As you probably noticed this evening, nearly an entire generation has been wiped out due to the wars with Voldemort and his followers. In order to maintain our culture, we need to encourage families to form."

As he paused, an even more pained look crossed his face and he looked over to Minerva. Seeing that she wasn't going to jump into this mess, he was forced to continue. "In order to … assure … families form, we're pondering instituting a marriage law."

"What?!?" Hermione shrieked.

Sighing heavily, the Minister once again pleaded with Minerva to enter the argument. Recognizing it was unavoidable, she summoned the papers off her desk that showed the charts, graphs, and scenarios she and the Minister had discussed this summer. "Hermione, I know this will probably sway you more than a simple discussion could. Why don't you review these along with a rough draft of the law Kingsley is proposing and we'll meet again in a week?"

Still shocked, Hermione could only nod dumbly.

"Even though I trust you two implicitly, I still must warn you that this is highly sensitive information. Do not discuss with anyone else and do not let anyone else see what you have."

Neville's shocked haze cleared first and he managed to croak out, "Yes Headmistress," in reply.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Neville felt much more confident and comfortable than at any other time in his life. Yet he still couldn't help but cringe away in fear at the 5 foot 4 inch girl across the table from him as she muttered an impressive string of obscenities under her breath while viciously scribbling with her quill.

"Hermione?" Neville squeaked out, causing the girl in question to glare up at him. Seeing his ashen features and closed body language, she realized the tension in her face and relaxed it considerably.

"I'm sorry, Neville. It's just that … I've never been so infuriated in my life!" she replied as she slammed the quill down on the table, upsetting her ink bottle in the process.

After Neville performed a quick _Evanesco_, he reached over and patted her arm soothingly. "Let's start at the beginning and talk our way through this, okay?"

"Fine," Hermione replied hotly.

Taking a deep breath, Neville corrected, "Let's start at the beginning and calmly talk our way through this, okay?"

"Fine," Hermione replied, but much more sheepishly this time.

"Okay, so do we believe the ministry's information?"

"Unfortunately, yes. If anything, they might be too optimistic on how many children per couple would be born under normal circumstances," Hermione replied in a business-like tone. "In the muggle world, the average number of children born to couples has been declining steadily in the industrial nations as more women pursue careers outside of the home."

Neville stared back at her blankly for a moment before deciding to agree just to keep the conversation moving. "So we agree they have a legitimate cause for concern?"

"Yes. If we use their numbers, the wizarding population would decline so that in about 20 years time there would only be about 10,000 persons. Over 1/3 of the population is over 100 years old, so they will mostly die out over the next 20 or so years. It will take a couple generations of a baby boom before we would have some sort of population growth again."

"Are there any alternatives to a marriage law of some sort?"

Hermione chewed her lip as she racked her brain for alternatives. "Well," she said slowly, "we could increase the number of immigrants to England. That would help bolster the population even though they weren't native English."

Neville sighed deeply at his friend's naiveté. "Unfortunately that option has no chance in the Wizengamot, Hermione. The older families wouldn't stand for it, even putting the issue of blood purity aside. They would see it as essentially ceding control of England to a foreign nation."

Seeing Hermione about ready to erupt, Neville attempted to head her off before she could gather steam. "I agree with you and I'm sure many of our generation would as well. But unfortunately we're not the ones with seats on the Wizengamot. They didn't like Voldemort, but that doesn't mean they aren't conservative in their views. They feel an English wizard is the best wizard. They are looking for ways to increase the number of English wizards, not just the number of wizards living in England."

This didn't seem to help, as Hermione's countenance was still stormy. Nevertheless she let it drop, as even she could see there were other matters more pressing right now. "So we're stuck," she commented resignedly.

Neville slumped in the chair beside her. "We're stuck," he agreed. "So … we now have to make it the most equitable and tolerant we can."

"Right," said Hermione as she began shuffling the parchment, looking for the rough draft Kingsley left with them. "First off, they planned to choose partners at the ministry. That's gotta go – we may be forced to marry, but we should at least be able to choose who we're forced to be with."

Neville nodded in agreement before she continued. "Next they want us to get married within six months of the pairing, regardless of other circumstances."

"That seems harsh," Neville responded. After pondering for a bit, he continued, "It should be within one year of finishing Hogwarts, since we don't know if the law will be passed before the Christmas hols. Having to be married within six months would mean either leaving school or trying to be a married couple in school." After a moment, he smirked, "Although that would definitely promote inter-house unity."

"Prat!" Hermione scolded, swatting him playfully on the arm. Taking a more serious countenance, she added, "Some professions like Aurors or Healers require additional training after Hogwarts. It would be terrible to be married then not see the person for two years afterward. Maybe we could extend the timeline if you're enrolled in those programs?"

Neville started to nod slowly, "I like it. What's next?"

Hermione scanned through the parchment once more. "Umm, they are dictating we have a child within three years of marriage. Do you think we can get them to strike that?"

Neville shrugged. "We won't know unless we ask," he offered.

"Right. Okay, everything else looks at least tolerable. Well, given the framework of this horrid law at least. Do you see anything else?"

Neville spent a few minutes reading through the law as well before shaking his head. "I think you got the main issues down. Before we meet with the Minister again, we probably need to have a suggestion for how to choose partners. Without that, they'll probably insist they choose the pairings." They both visibly shuddered at the thought of the ministry choosing anything that important for them. Exchanging looks of fear, they began immediately brainstorming over possible ways to determine the pairings.

* * *

A nervous atmosphere filled the room as the group of four again gathered in the chairs by the fireplace. "Hermione, Neville, thank you for helping the ministry with this difficult decision," Kingsley started, attempting to reach out to the two young people in front of him.

Neville took a deep breath and decided to lead the discussion. "Thank you for seeking our input, Minister. You could have easily pushed the law through without any discussion and we would only see it when the Daily Prophet reported it."

Kingsley nodded graciously but added, "I'm sure Minerva would have my head if I chose that route. I think this is the best possible way forward when pondering such a drastic change."

McGonagall spared Kingsley a small smile before getting down to business and addressing her students. "So what have you determined?"

"Well, we agree with the ministry's report and understand there are few options," Neville began, restraining himself from saying anything too scathing about the Minister or the ministry. "As a result, we understand why you proposed the marriage law and don't see any way to avoid it without having a more progressive Wizengamot in place." Neville couldn't resist taking a small barb at his elders.

Kingsley didn't seem to be offended and smiled wryly at the young man. Giving Neville a subtle nod, he continued, "While we understand the law is unavoidable, we wanted to ensure the effects would give us the most flexibility possible while still agreeing in spirit to the requirements." Here Neville turned to Hermione, as she had a firmer grasp on the details that needed to be negotiated.

"Three things jump out at us when reading through the original law: How pairings are determined, the length of time required to get married, and the demand of a child born after three years. We wish to change these sections while still keeping the requirement in place per the ministry's wishes."

At this point, Hermione became a bit unsure of herself, so she decided to start off the debate with a question. "Erm, Minister? How was the ministry going to determine each pairing?"

"Well, my understanding is they would use a device much like the Goblet of Fire used for the Tri-Wizard Tournament a few years ago," he started, rubbing his chin unconsciously while trying to remember the details he was briefed on. "The goblet is enchanted to look at things like character, ability … that sort of thing." Honestly Kingsley didn't know exactly how the goblet worked, but knew he had the general idea right.

"I suppose we could also use the sorting hat, if it's willing," Minerva added. "I have a feeling students might be more familiar with that piece of magic than the goblet."

"Why use either? Why can't we choose?" Hermione interrupted, momentarily losing her patience at the direction the two elders in the room were taking.

"Well we could do that, but it could take ages for everyone to agree," Kingsley responded.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione outlined her thoughts. "First off, there are probably several people either seriously dating or engaged. The ministry could allow them to register their engagement and thus be exempt from being paired."

"Makes sense," Minerva responded. "They could still abide by the procedures of the contract but with the person they have already chosen."

"Exactly!" Hermione replied, excited that there was some traction to her ideas. "The remainder of those could then pair off per their wishes, with the registry acting like a restricted list."

"While I agree having more choice in the matter is beneficial, we still have a huge time commitment in front of us."

"Not if you speed up the process by having a lottery," Hermione replied with a smug look on her face.

The look was premature, as the elder members of the conversation just stared back at the girl with blank looks. Neville decided to help his friend out. "She lost me there as well. According to Hermione, a lottery is like a drawing. You essentially put everyone's name in something like the Goblet of Fire and instead of having it pair us off, the first name out of the Goblet chooses their mate. The next name then chooses next, and so forth. Using that method we could have all the pairings done in a day."

Minerva looked impressed, but still had questions. "But that's hundreds of people to pair up! And how is that better than having the Goblet choose the pairings in the first place?"

"Well, I'm guessing the impending marriage law is likely to speed up couples who are pondering getting married anyway," she admitted. "I'm expecting the engagement registry will be quite full."

"As to the Goblet, we could improve the situation by having a drawing. We could either do this with everyone having equal odds or we could treat it like I read about in American sports. Some of the sports rank the teams and they pick in the order ranked. One sport – I think it's basketball – gives each team a chance at first pick by essentially putting odds against them. So the worst team has the highest percentage of winning the first pick, but every team has a chance. Something like that might work."

Kingsley began rubbing his head to fight off a headache. This was far too complex for him to be listening to at half 10 in the evening and for a fleeting moment wished he was more like Fudge and just rammed this legislation through the Wizengamot.

Minerva was feeling a bit sharper, so she asked, "How do you suggest ranking the students?"

Neville and Hermione exchanged looks. "Well," she began, studying the floor intently. "We could use things like people's involvement in the war, academic achievement, peer review … something like that."

"I'm sure the old families will want wealth, seats on the Wizengamot, or blood purity to be the ranking," Kingsley warned.

Neville shrugged, "Whatever you think is best. The real issue we have is that everyone gets a chance to pick, and that there's some method for determining who picks first."

Minerva turned to Kingsley, "Do you think the Department of Mysteries has something we can reference?"

Kingsley sat back in his chair to ponder this. On one hand it would place the ministry squarely in the ire of the people as everyone would know they were responsible for the ranking. However, using the unusual method Hermione described would give each a chance at the first pick – the ranking would only give the odds. Nodding his head slowly, Kingsley agreed to ask around.

Neville and Hermione gave a sigh of relief, as this was a huge breakthrough in coming up with a kinder, gentler marriage law. Sure enough, the rest of the conversation went smoothly with the minister agreeing with virtually every issue they brought up.

* * *

As the clocks chimed one in the morning, the pair of Gryffindors headed back to the common room exhausted but happier.


	3. Chapter 3

**Drafting A Marriage**

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**Chapter 3**

Sometimes Minerva McGonagall hated being the Headmistress. Today was one such occasion, as she would soon have to interrupt everyone's pleasant supper in the great hall to hold back the seventh years.

It took several more conversations between herself, the two head students, and the minister before a reasonable law – given the circumstances, at least – could be cobbled together. Now she felt it her duty to inform the school before the Daily Prophet published it for tomorrow's paper.

Standing up, she called for everyone's attention. "I request that all seventh-years remain in the Great Hall after supper. Prefects, please ensure that all students are present."

* * *

Harry Potter froze mid-bite to soak in this announcement. The headmistress was distressed – he had known her long enough to tell that whatever this was about, it didn't bode well for him or any of his classmates.

Immediately he swiveled his head to stare at his friend sitting on his left. Hermione managed to escape right as McGonagall finished her last syllable, probably to search the broom closets for Dean Thomas and whoever his latest snogging partner was. Neville hadn't moved quick enough, and was now trying to maintain a calm façade under the emerald green glare.

"Is this as bad as I think it will be?" Harry asked, being unusually direct. Slowly, Neville nodded stiffly. Harry groaned audibly bent over to start lightly pounding his head against the table.

Neville couldn't help it. This was Harry Potter, his friend and fellow Gryffindor who helped them all have a better life. Well, at least he thought it would still be better, despite this marriage law. He had to let him know so that he could brace for the worst. And honestly, this would be bad for Harry. Very, very bad.

* * *

Minerva looked out over the tense group. Most didn't seem too concerned about things until they noticed Minister Shacklebolt slipping into the room via a side door. Thankfully, he was here to do most of the talking, as it was a ministry decree in the first place.

The minister cleared his throat, his deep baritone rumble enough to cut any whispers exchanged among the student body. "Thank you for taking time out of your studies in order to attend this announcement. Minerva and I felt we owed it to you – all of you – to tell you personally about a news item that will appear in the Daily Prophet tomorrow morning.

"As many of you know, the wizarding world suffered tremendous losses during the war with Voldemort and his followers. Unfortunately the groups hardest hit by the fighting were you – the young adults and children."

Here Kingsley hesitated, still feeling the remorse from adding yet another burden to this group of survivors. Racking his brain for a softer way to spit this out than the literally dozens of scenarios he tried over the last few days, he started again, "How many witches and wizards do you think live in the Isles?"

None of the students expected this to be a history revision and the question caught them off their game. Seeing that no one would answer, Kingsley called on Hermione since he knew she was intimately familiar with the issue.

For once Hermione seemed truly reluctant to share her knowledge. "Umm … I believe about 15,000 minister."

Kingsley nodded his head slowly, allowing that figure to sink into the students' minds. "That's pretty close. Thank you, Miss Granger.

"Does anyone know how many witches and wizards were in the Isles after Grindelwald was defeated?" Not really expecting an answer, Kingsley paused for a bit before answering himself. "The ministry records estimate about 30,000."

As he let that figure also sink in, Kingsley could see that some of the sharper students could see where this conversation was headed. He noticed Harry had a look of grim acceptance etched on his features; the same look he had seen on that boy's face many times over the last three years whenever Voldemort was mentioned.

Fighting off the voice in his head screaming at him to call this whole mess off, the minister plunged ahead. "As many of you can tell by those figures, we face a crisis. Our culture is essentially dying out and I feel it is my duty as minister to try and prevent that. It obviously won't happen overnight; in fact, our numbers will dip further in the coming years before we can hope to turn them around.

"Unfortunately I see that many of you realize what this means. We need to re-populate magical Britain. In order to do so, we must turn to you for help.

"The only way to do this is for the ministry to encourage people to have children. Since there are many … divergent … viewpoints on how to accomplish this I felt it best to include Minerva in these discussions, as well as the Head Boy and Head Girl to get the students perspective."

Upon hearing this, Minerva looked as though she was being told she had to kill a family pet; Hermione and Neville merely stared at the floor hoping some wandless magic would allow it to swallow them up before their classmates turned on them.

"Let me be clear, I told them there had to be a marriage law –"

As soon as the words formally left the minister's mouth, gasps and bawling broke out all over the student body. Neville, and surprisingly Harry, scooted closer to Hermione in order to subconsciously protect their friend from any assault attempts on the poor girl.

Having now let the kneazle out of the bag, Kingsley could only plunge ahead. "Given that directive, the three of them sought to make it as accommodating as possible."

Hearing the students still reeling from the thought of a marriage law, he boomed out, "Silence!"

That did the trick, as the students were once again reminded that Kingsley was a strong leader of the British wizarding world – he could command respect via actions, words, or simply presence. Here he chose to use all three.

"Thank you," he said in a much quieter voice. Sighing deeply he dropped into a chair on the dais and ran a hand over his bald head. "I can assure you I hate this as much as you do. I worked all summer to try and think of alternatives and sought Minerva's opinion to make sure I hadn't missed anything. Unfortunately as minister I only have two choices – force something like this through or let our culture die. It's possible the trend would reverse if we did nothing, but it would be like flying a broom blind. You may not crash, but you have no way to tell. Especially after this war, what would be the point of having fought so hard, and losing so much, just to see it fade away naturally?"

The Great Hall was silent for nearly a minute as all tried to absorb what they heard. Finally Minerva chose to speak. "In order to make this law somewhat bearable, Neville and Hermione fought to make sure everyone had at least some choice. Those of you who are already planning a path toward marriage may register with the ministry as being a couple. You will still have to get married before the required dates but at least you won't face the anxiety of the pairing process.

"Second, we agreed that forcing these newly married couples to produce an offspring is an unwelcome burden. The approach of this law is to … speed up the courting process. The hope is that, while it may take a bit more time after marriage to be comfortable with the idea of children, that time will still come sooner than if those relationships had to be found in the first place.

"There are requirements for how long you can wait before marriage. You have one year from the time of graduating Hogwarts to be married to your partner. If either person is enrolled in a healer or auror program, you have one year from the time you finish that program. Since both these programs are intensive and would mean little opportunity to form a bond with your partner, we felt this would be a fair compromise."

Kingsley interjected, "Keep in mind there are quotas on how many applicants these two programs accept. We won't allow merely applying, without acceptance, to be a reason for deferral."

Minerva took a deep breath and started in on the final piece. "Instead of having someone or some magical object choose the pairings, Neville and Hermione both argued that you should be able to have some say in who you are paired with. In order to make this process as expedient as possible, we'll hold a drawing of sorts on Halloween which will determine the order of picks. The actual choice of partners will be held the day before the Christmas holiday. We'll hold a Ball on that last day before you go on holiday to help you get acquainted with your … future spouse." Here Minerva looked a bit queasy but maintained her composure.

Harry sat beside Hermione muttering, "Another reason to hate Halloween." She could only rub his shoulder in pity.

Slowly Padma Patil raised her hand. "Um … professor? Can you explain this drawing on Halloween?"

Minerva turned to Kingsley and motioned for him to start out the answer. "The ministry will use a magical object from the Department of Mysteries that works sort of like the Goblet of Fire or the Sorting Hat. We will place all your names into the object and it will then release the names based on some criteria."

"What sort of criteria?" Ginny blurted out before blushing a bright red.

"Well … that's the difficult part," Kingsley conceded, rubbing his head in frustration again. "The Wizengamot insists on determining the criteria and will be discussed in our session tomorrow morning after the law is ratified. I would guess it will have several components, ranging from magical ability to your grades here at Hogwarts to … family status." Kingsley couldn't help but add a touch of disgust at the last one.

"So we don't have a choice …" Susan Bones started.

"No, you do," Kingsley insisted with some fervor. "We'll use the names as they came out of the object as a basis to build odds. Everyone's name will go into the actual drawing on Halloween, but there will be odds based on how the object ranked everyone. So the first name out of the object –"

"Harry's name," Susan interrupted, as if this were a foregone conclusion. Harry looked startled while the majority of the students just nodded in agreement with Susan.

Kingsley couldn't help but smile a bit before continuing, "Whoever the first name happens to be, they will have the highest odds of being drawn first. But everyone will have a chance, just with lesser odds."

Minerva picked up the rest of the conversation. "Once the order is determined, we felt it wise to give you some time before having to make your choice. That's why there's a delay between the drawing at Halloween and the pairing at December."

Ron slowly raised his hand next. "What if someone chooses you before it's your turn to pick?"

Minerva and Kingsley looked at each other, mentally pleading the other answer Ron's question. Minerva 'won' and shot a scowl at the minister before answering in the most understanding voice she could muster. "Then I'm afraid you won't get to choose. You have been paired."

The gravity of the situation dawned on a number of students and the two adults could see their mental wheels spinning en-masse.

Surprisingly, Tracey Davis raised her hand next. "What if we don't want to choose a seventh year student?"

Kingsley and Minerva looked momentarily startled but recovered quickly. Kingsley replied, "I … I guess that's fine as long as they are of age and living in Britain."

It was Ron's turn again. This time he looked deep in thought, yet slightly embarrassed at the same time. "Professor, what if … what if we don't like the spot we're in to choose. Can we … trade spots?"

Dozens of eyes grew wide at the question, realizing what Ron was suggesting. Immediately the Great Hall became still as everyone turned their attention to the Minister – Minerva included – to see what his answer would be.

Kingsley could only gape at Ron for a good 30 seconds before finally closing his mouth and recovering. "Umm … I suppose so as long as both parties were willing. I would hope there's a formal agreement, with maybe Minerva being the witness?"

Minerva just nodded mutely, her flabbergasted look still pasted onto her features. These next few months were going to be even stranger than she originally thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**Drafting a Marriage**

* * *

**Chapter 4:**

Minerva could only characterize the last 24 hours as chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos. After the announcement with Minister Shacklebolt, the students queued up to grab her time and attention until the wee hours of the morning. It seemed every student was now filled with anxiety and sought a sympathetic ear to which they could rant or cry.

The next morning brought the 'official' unveiling of the marriage law in the Daily Prophet. Along with the press looking for statements, a steady stream of irate parents either made their way to Hogwarts directly or tied up the Headmistress' floo. The only time she could escape was to observe the Wizengamot session that officially passed the proposal into law. She stayed on to listen to the politicians argue for several hours before finally hammering out a list of criteria from which the Department of Mysteries would 'program' the magical object to consider when drawing the names. As is the case with most compromises, no one was particularly happy with the criteria selected but at least it was done with.

Finally, 24 hours later, she again faced the seventh year students asked to stay behind after supper for a quick announcement. "I wanted to update you on the progress of the marriage law the Minister and I discussed with you yesterday. The law indeed passed in the Wizengamot –"

Several groans interrupted the Headmistress before she could call for silence again. "The Wizengamot also agreed to a set of criteria which the Department of Mysteries will use to rank those affected. I wanted to make you aware of the critical dates to keep in mind as this legislation … er … progresses," she finished somewhat awkwardly.

Steeling herself with a deep breath, Minerva continued, "The engagement registration will start immediately and be open until October 1st. After that, any person who is not on the registry or already betrothed will be tallied by the Ministry and given to the Department of Mysteries. On the morning of October 31st, the names will be drawn in the Department of Mysteries based on the criteria established by the Wizengamot. Those names will go directly into the drawing in reverse order odds. So, the last name out will have only one slip with their name on it; the second to last will have two slips; and so forth.

"That evening the actual drawing will occur here at Hogwarts. Because the criteria decided on by the Wizengamot is very complex, I won't try and explain it here. However, the Daily Prophet will have it in tomorrow's issue and Hogwarts will ensure each seventh year will get their own edition. After you have read about the criteria, I can try and answer any questions you may have. But please keep in mind I am not a barrister."

Seeing that everyone's questions would be held at bay for at least the evening, she dismissed the groups and headed straight to her chambers. Tomorrow was going to be another long day and Minerva needed all the rest she could get.

* * *

The students slowly filtered out of the Great Hall, many too shocked to do anything but shuffle toward their respective common rooms. Thankfully for Neville and Hermione, the reality of law really happening hadn't caused the students to lash out at them in anger. They were able to sit quietly with Ron, Ginny, and Harry until they were the last people left.

"So when are you moving to Australia, Hermione?" Ron quipped in an attempt to lighten the mood. "After all, your Mum and Dad live there now so you should be able to escape too."

Hermione merely shrugged her shoulders. "Actually that is an option for me," she started. Her words caused the other four to swivel their heads to her in shock. "If my parents are no longer living in the Isles I can technically claim their address as my own."

"You can do that?" Harry blurted out. After a pause he continued, "Can your parents adopt me?"

This comment did break the tension and all five now wore at least small smiles. "Actually it's only a technicality. I would have to hold an Australian passport in order to be recognized as such. And since I'm legally an adult in both the wizarding and muggle worlds, I have to show proof that I still call my parents home as mine. Keep in mind I would need to somehow accomplish this before October 1st. I'm not sure even I can pull that off." Hermione finished with a wistful smile before her face crumpled in frustration.

Neville slowly rubbed her back to try and comfort her as all five friends once again felt the weight of yet another difficult situation hang over them.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning offered little in the way of actual eating for the seventh years. Every single one of them had their faces buried in the Daily Prophet, scrutinizing the new legislation and the criteria the Wizengamot selected to rank the eligible students.

"So what do you think?" mumbled Ron to the table as he attempted to multi-task by stuffing sausages in his mouth between reading each criteria the Wizengamot outlined.

"I think I'll get a fairly early pick," Neville commented slowly. He knew his family had some prestige, wealth, and pure bloodlines. Throw in his involvement with the war effort and his Head Boy position and he scored well enough in most areas to offset his middling grades so far. "What do you think, Hermione?"

The Head Girl chewed her lip in concentration, her mental abacus trying to determine exactly where she felt she would land. "I think I'll be in the middle," she determined after a few seconds. "I do well on the academic pieces, but I'm a muggle-born. I think those should balance out in the end."

Ginny glared at the Daily Prophet in disgust before shooting her friend a sympathetic look. "The Wizengamot has their heads so far up their arse regarding this. After all that happened in the war, how can they rank blood purity and wealth so high? With these criteria, Malfoy will be one of the first names selected."

"Hopefully after Harry at least," Neville commented, verbalizing his wishes that Draco wouldn't again come up on top regardless of his past transgressions. "What's the word, Harry?"

Harry, in the middle of mentally debating whether attempting to force any breakfast down would do any good, merely grunted. Finally he announced, "I'm doomed regardless. I really have no clue how I rank on half of these criteria but the outcome isn't going to change. I'll still be forced to marry at the end of the day."

"You could just get engaged to Ginny and avoid this whole lottery thing," Ron offered, earning glares from nearly the entire group.

"What?" he shot back indignantly. "I'm sure that George will ask Angelina to marry him so that he avoids having to go through this process. Merlin, I bet even Lee Jordan might ask Alicia or Katie just to make sure he gets a good one. He's only a half-blood and wasn't that good of a student, so he probably won't get a high pick."

Harry was startled to realize Ron actually brought up good points. Sure he had all the tact of a bludger, but that was really beside the point. First off, Harry completely forgot that the law extended to everyone up to 25 years old this time around. It wasn't just the Hogwarts students who were suffering through this, but nearly all the people he went to Hogwarts with earlier. Second, he probably should think a little more clearly about where he would rank and whether he wanted to deal with this lottery at all.

Ginny seemed to be thinking the same thing. Fighting down her blush at being put on the spot by her darling brother Ronald, she summoned her courage to speak. "Harry, you probably should think about what might happen in this lottery. You're famous; a lot of witches would do anything to land you."

Harry nodded in resignation before banging his head lightly on the table. "Why does everything have to be so bloody difficult?"

* * *

"Harry? Can I talk to you?" Ginny asked as she approached him in the common room that evening.

Harry, the brave Gryffindor that he was, looked across the table and shot Hermione a panicked look only to have her raise an eyebrow in his direction. After so many years of close friendship, the meaning of that one eyebrow was clear to Harry: _"You're on your own for this one."_

Slumping his shoulders, Harry mumbled, "I guess." The two then exited the common room and began to slowly walk down the steps towards the castle grounds. Ginny didn't attempt to grab Harry's arm or hand, but in his opinion she was still uncomfortably close.

As they exited the castle to a pleasant early fall evening, Ginny's brow furrowed before taking a deep breath. "Harry? Why haven't you talked to me since the battle? Well, since Bill's wedding really," she clarified.

Running his hand through his hair, Harry flipped over the question in his mind a few times. While he had a pretty good idea what his reasons were, he wasn't sure how to express it in a way that would keep him from getting hexed by Ginny.

"Last year was hard – for both of us. I wasn't ready to talk about it and I suppose I just assumed you weren't really ready either. Especially after what happened to Fred …" Harry trailed off. The mere mention of Fred's name caused Ginny to turn away and hide behind a veil of red hair.

Harry was now unsure whether Ginny still wanted to have this conversation, but decided to plunge forward anyway. "Honestly I still don't think I'm ready. I haven't a clue what to do with the rest of my life, and I guess I'm still trying to figure out what happened and how I should feel about it. I never thought beyond Voldemort and … now I need to," Harry finished lamely.

After a few moments of uncomfortable silence Ginny spoke, still hiding behind her hair. "Harry … why are you here?"

"You mean why am I still alive or why am I at Hogwarts?" Harry asked, still thinking about Voldemort and therefore uncertain what Ginny meant.

She gave an alarmed glance at Harry before relaxing when she realized he was truly confused and not affronted in some way. "Well, both I guess," she whispered.

Harry sighed deeply and used this moment to pick up a stone and chuck it into the Black Lake. Somehow they had managed to wind their way down to the shore. "I really have no idea, Ginny. I mean, it was him or me and somehow it wound up being him. I still don't know how that happened." Harry had vowed never to tell anyone about those last hours, walking to his death.

"As for Hogwarts? Well, I honestly didn't have a clue what else to do. I don't really think I need to get my NEWTS and I don't have any particular career in mind – none at all, actually – but when Hermione asked I guess I felt it would give me a year to figure some of this stuff out." Harry then snorted and ruefully shook his head. "At least until this bloody marriage law came about."

Ginny couldn't help but release a small smile at the sound of Harry's disgust. It quickly disappeared as she furrowed her brow again. She had been flipping Ron's words in her head all day and realized she felt conflicted. She and Harry hadn't discussed where their relationship, if there even was one at this point, was headed.

Marshalling her courage, she broached the subject. "Regardless of how badly I want to hex Ron at this moment," Harry chuckled at his friend's uncanny ability to say the worst thing at the worst time, "I am curious where we stand. Do you even think it's possible for us to be married?"

Harry stopped throwing rocks and turned to face the redhead. As he tried to form his thoughts into words, he realized just how small and unsure she looked. He was used to a more confident Ginny, but both the subject and the war had taken something out of her.

Feeling suddenly lucid, Harry started plainly. "I honestly don't know. I can say that Ron's suggestion is not something I can do right now. Perhaps with the extra time this lottery thing brings I will get to that point." Perhaps it was too cold, too direct, to say; but it was the truth.

Fortunately Ginny had always appreciated the direct method and, despite the glistening tears that threatened to fall, nodded stoically in understanding. "Thank you, Harry. That helps me understand things better." She then walked over to Harry and pulled him into a light hug before returning to the castle.

Harry stayed by the lake for a few more minutes, pondering whether situations like this was how Dumbledore came up with the mantra about _"Deciding between what is right and what is easy."_


	5. Chapter 5

**Drafting a Marriage**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"Harry?" a shy voice called out to the bespectacled teen packing up his book bag following Charms class.

Harry turned to see a fairly average-looking girl with brown hair standing behind him. While obviously a seventh-year, seeing as she was in his Charms class, he only vaguely recognized her. _"What's her name again? Cindy? Mindy?"_ he thought, desperately searching the corners of his mind so he wouldn't look too foolish. "What can I do for you, Mindy?"

She looked at him for a moment before furrowing her brow. "My name is Mandy," she corrected.

"_Dammit!"_

"Er … sorry. I'm a little distracted," Harry offered as an excuse. It was a pathetic lie, but he suddenly felt very anxious as he realized he was now alone with a girl he barely knew.

"It's okay," she shrugged, although she looked a bit deflated. "I was just wondering if you wanted to get together to study sometime?"

Harry looked blankly back at her for a moment. "So you need some tutoring?" he started slowly, trying to understand just what she was wanting.

"Um, not really. I do pretty well in Charms. Ravenclaw, you know," she pointed to her blue and bronze scarf as if to reinforce this fact.

A few seconds of tense silence passed. "Then I'm not following," Harry finally announced.

Mandy rolled her eyes and huffed out an exasperated breath. "I thought maybe we could study together to … you know … get to know each other a bit?"

After seven years in school together, Harry had no idea why Mandy would all of a sudden be interested in getting to know him better. Didn't she have ample opportunity to do so in the previous years? And it's not like the DA didn't have any Ravenclaw members – she probably heard about it and could have joined if she wanted to.

Thinking of a way to get out of this without just telling her 'no' and storming out of the room, Harry decided to try a bit of misdirection. "Umm … I suppose that would be alright. I sometimes study in the library a bit after dinner before going to the common room. Maybe I'll see you there?"

A small smile graced Mandy's features. "That would be great. I'll see you around, Harry!"

As he watched the girl leave, he let out the breath he was holding and resumed packing up his supplies. He hoped Hermione wouldn't mind bringing him any books he needed from the library for the next few weeks …

* * *

Hermione sat the Gryffindor table feeling slightly panicked. She was certain Harry was right behind her when Charms class let out, but he hadn't shown up in the Great Hall for lunch yet. _"Hermione, stay calm. There are hardly any Voldemort sympathizers left that haven't been locked up. And there's no students here that are dark," _she mentally rationalized. Unfortunately these words did nothing to soothe her anxiety.

She breathed a sigh of relief as Harry hurried into the Great Hall and dumped his stuff down beside her. "Where have you been?" she scolded, putting a bit more heat into her rebuke than she intended.

Harry, momentarily shocked to see his friend so worked up, subconsciously scooted away from her a bit before replying, "Mandy … something … the Mandy from Ravenclaw –"

"Brocklehurst," Hermione supplied, urging him to continue his story.

"Yeah, that's it. Mandy Brocklehurst cornered me after class. She said she wanted to get to know me better and asked if I would study with her."

Hermione merely groaned while Ginny, sitting on the other side of Hermione, snorted in amusement.

"What?" questioned Harry, suspicious of what could cause this reaction.

Putting on a slightly patronizing look, Hermione explained, "Harry, she is trying to get you to like her. She wants to make an impression on you so that you might consider her when choosing your wife."

Harry's eyes grew wide, filled with panic. "You're joking! Please be joking?"

"Unfortunately she's not," Neville answered. "Luna warned me that she and Lisa Turpin were trying to figure out how to get the most advantageous match they could with the marriage law."

"So Lisa Turpin is going to ask me to study with her as well?"

"Erm, no," Neville mumbled, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "She actually asked me to study with her after Herbology class. Of course Luna already spoke with me, so I turned her down."

"Why didn't Luna warn me, then?" Harry asked, feeling a little queasy about the whole situation.

"Sorry mate," mumbled Ron as he looked abashed. "She told me to tell you that she heard Lisa tell Mandy to ask you to study with her. I just forgot about it," he finished with a shrug before turning back to his lunch.

Harry's face screwed up in a look of pained concentration before turning to Hermione. "Even if he told me that, I don't think I could have understood it."

* * *

After Harry's encounter with Mandy, he took to keeping himself holed up in the boy's dormitory within the confines of the Gryffindor tower as much as possible. Soon Neville joined him in this forced exile as he too received several unwanted advances from seventh-year girls he barely knew. As a result, Hermione found herself entering the Great Hall for supper alone. Dumping her book bag down with a solid 'thud', she pulled out her homework planner to ensure her priorities for the evening were set before settling down to her meal.

Flipping to the correct page, her educational focus broke as she stared at the date in the top corner: September 29th. _"Just two more days before the engagement period ends and the ministry starts their selection process."_

If she was honest with herself, Hermione felt torn between relief and disappointment that she didn't have the same problems as Harry, Neville, or Ron had with unwanted suitors. Granted Ron seemed to enjoy the attention and used the opportunities to get a fair bit of snogging in. _"The great, stupid prat!"_ Hermione mentally hissed, glad that her relationship with the redhead hadn't really gotten off the ground before coming back to Hogwarts.

As she ate her meal and read her Transfiguration notes, her mind kept wandering. _"Am I really that bad of a catch? I know I'm not that attractive but surely someone in this bloody castle can see beyond physical beauty."_ Hermione knew she was intelligent and loyal, but like most teenage girls her self-esteem suffered when scrutinized by the definition of 'beauty' in her head.

Having finished her meal and her pity party, Hermione sighed before once again focusing on her academic requirements. Slinging her book bag over her shoulder, she exited the Great Hall toward the library. Unfortunately for her self-esteem, she was too preoccupied with her studies to notice the several pairs of male eyes follow her form as she walked briskly away.

* * *

Ron returned to the dorms just before curfew, happily humming an unidentifiable tune. Harry and Neville, who were trying to find another three inches of material to put into their too-short Transfiguration essays, glared at the oblivious redhead with angry scowls. As Ron turned to head toward the loo, he noticed his dormmates' stormy expressions directed his way and stopped his tune mid-note. "What?" he shot back at them.

Harry merely shook his head in disgust, whereas Neville's features took on a look that seemed laced with equal parts disgust and pity. "So who was it tonight, Ron?" he questioned, trying to keep his voice from being too accusing toward his friend.

Ron, oblivious to the fact his friends didn't think highly of the situation, smiled dreamily before replying, "Annabeth," in a contented sigh.

Harry and Neville exchanged slightly perplexed looks before Harry questioned, "Who's Annabeth?"

Ron looked at the two boys like they were a bit touched in the head. "The beautiful blonde from Hufflepuff? She's in Ginny's year? Come on, mates! She's got to be one of the two or three best looking birds in the whole school!"

A blank look remained on Harry's face while Neville's was now screwed up in thought. Slowly he began nodding as he successfully matched up her face and name in his head. "Right … I think I do remember seeing her around …"

"You would be blind not to. Or a poof like Malfoy, I suppose."

"Hey!" Harry retorted.

Ron looked slightly abashed and hurried to amend his statement. "Or someone who had a lot on his mind and kept himself holed up in a boy's dormitory," he tried to placate. Harry seemed appeased until Ron got a small smile on his face. "Of course maybe that means you really are a poof and just haven't figured it out yet."

Neville spent the rest of the night in the common room, unwilling to get between the hexes being thrown between his two mates.

* * *

Lunch on October 1st found seventh year students huddled around a special edition of the Daily Prophet. The 'engagement period' was now complete and each student studied the names on the published registration list intently. "I knew it! Good on George!" Ron crowed as he spotted his older brother's name beside Angelina's.

"I always liked Angelina," Ginny murmured. "I think she'll be fun to have as a sister. Hey! There's Percy as well!" Sure enough, Percy finally made a commitment to Penelope Clearwater after dating on and off for several years.

As Harry scanned the list, he noticed several familiar names – Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, Oliver Wood … and Draco Malfoy. He started with a quiet chuckle – something his friends hadn't heard in literally years from their friend – before it grew into a full-on belly laugh.

"What is it?" Neville questioned, growing slightly wary at the maniacal quality Harry's laugh was taking on.

Harry could only point toward the paper, his friends attempting to track his finger across the parchment. There in neat script was _"Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson – House of Malfoy."_

His friends exchanged a look amongst each other. Pansy made it clear all through their years that Draco and her were at least somewhat of an item; the fact they were now betrothed shouldn't be too surprising to Harry.

Hermione looked sharply at her friend. "What's so funny about that?" Harry responded by rolling his hand in a 'continue' fashion, causing her to turn back to the paper. Written below that entry on the parchment was _"Draco Malfoy & Millicent Bulstrode – House of Black (via contract)."_

Laughter erupted from all parties, startling McGonagall at the head table and causing the other students to look nervously at the strange sight unfolding amongst the Gryffindors. As the laughter continued, Minerva got out of her seat to investigate. She figured today would be a somber affair rather than one filled with riotous laughter.

"What is going on here?" she questioned with as much authority as she could to the red-faced group.

Hermione recovered enough to shove the _Daily Prophet_ into the headmistress' hands and point the line out to her on the page. It looks like – the Marauders – had one last prank left," she gasped out between her fits of laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

**Drafting a Marriage**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"Harry, if you don't get up now you'll miss breakfast."

"That's fine by me. Go on ahead, Ron."

Ron, already feeling somewhat foolish holding a conversation with the bed hangings, merely shrugged at Neville and made his way out of the dormitory. Neville stayed in the room, despite his growling stomach. "Harry? Are you just going to stay in there all day?"

"Yes," started Harry slowly. "Yes, I think I will actually."

Neville knew he changed due to the events at Hogwarts last year and for the first time in his life he actually felt like a Gryffindor. Now he realized this was yet another test for his Gryffindor courage – could he stand up against The Boy Who Lived?

Taking a deep breath, he plunged his arm forward – only to have it crumple into the bed hangings like he just tried to cleave through the castle wall itself. "Ouch, Harry! What did you do to your bed hangings?" His only answer was a slightly predatory chuckle.

Shaking his hand to try and regain some feeling, Neville tried a different tact. "Harry, you know Hermione is waiting down in the common room. When I tell her that you're not coming to breakfast …" He let the question linger. While still not quite comfortable with overtly threatening Harry himself, he had no problem giving Harry a threat via proxy from Hermione. The predatory chuckle stopped abruptly, but no other sound emerged.

Almost on cue, the door burst open to reveal an angry Hermione. Neville immediately retreated a couple steps and mumbled, "I tried to warn you mate."

"Harry James Potter! What are you doing up here?"

"Erm … sleeping in?" came a timid reply. "It is Saturday, you know."

"Well clearly you're not sleeping," she retorted. She turned to look at Neville and huffed at how dense her friend could be sometimes. Neville, who managed to inch around behind Hermione in a bid for freedom, merely looked back at her with a guilty expression at being caught trying to escape.

Now Hermione rolled her eyes at her other friend's behavior and cast him a stern look before relenting and waiving him to go on down to the Great Hall with Ron.

"Harry," she tried again in a softer tone. "It's just you and me now. I know you want no part of this, but you have to face this. It's going to happen whether you want it to or not."

After a few beats, Hermione heard Harry sigh, cancel a spell, and pull the bed hangings back slightly.

* * *

Harry sat at the Gryffindor table idly pushing mashed potatoes around with his utensils. It was Halloween, the worst day of the year in his opinion. Hermione literally dragged him out of the Gryffindor tower, but he had to grudgingly admit spending the day mostly outside felt pretty good.

But now he, along with the entire school, were inside and waiting for the minister to arrive. While this Halloween was pleasant up to this point, the day was about to get decidedly darker. Harry's only thoughts were if would capture the number 2 spot for worst Halloweens ever. Number 1 would always be the death of his parents, but today being number 2? _"Yeah, that's a strong possibility,"_ thought Harry morosely.

Minister Shacklebolt entered the Great Hall with a phalanx of ministry officials around him. Based on the unique robes and insignias, nearly all were Unspeakables. The last two who entered the Great Hall carried the goblet of fire between them. "Oh, Merlin! Not the goblet again!" Harry groaned and began to stab at his food with renewed vigor. Neville and Ron could only offer sympathetic pats on his back as a show of solidarity.

But his dour mood, along with many of the other seventh years, soon disappeared. Since the students never saw the goblet of fire erected before, many were fascinated by the amount of specialized witches and wizards required to enchant this magical object. First the Unspeakables conjured a pedestal and placed the goblet upon it. Next, several came forward and began murmuring long spells while waving their wands in intricate patterns all around the goblet. Soon the magical artifact emitted a soft white light, then changed colors as each new group of Unspeakables came forward to cast their portion of whatever enchantments were needed to 'program' the goblet for this task. Finally, the minister himself cast the final chain of spells and the goblet's light disappeared.

The students, who were all following the proceedings with rapt attention, began to look at each other questioningly. "Is that it?" Ron mumbled to his friends after a few seconds passed with little activity. Just as Hermione was shugging her shoulders to show she was equally baffled, the goblet erupted into intense blue flame, causing many of the students to shriek in surprise.

Minister Shacklebolt, trying in vain to fight off his smirk, thanked the Unspeakables, and all but two left. He motioned the Headmistress forward and, after a quick whispered conversation, stepped forward and raised his hands to quiet the students.

"As you know tonight is the next milestone in the marriage law recently passed by the Wizengamot. Based on the criteria selected by that group, the Unspeakables programmed the goblet of fire to essentially rank each and every name eligible under this law. As we discussed prior, this does not determine your drawing order but merely the odds at which you are likely to be drawn.

"To ensure this is official, we are going to reconfigure the Great Hall into two seating groups – a gallery for those observing the proceedings and a table for those … taking part." Kingsley grimaced on this last bit, as if he just tasted something particularly unpleasant. Calling their participation anything other than 'required' was just a half-hearted attempt to put a positive spin on the entire situation.

Minerva waived her wand and the students shuffled, sometimes slowly, to their assigned spots. Once they all settled in, Kingsley again spoke up. "The Unspeakables have placed all the eligible names into the goblet for those who do not attend Hogwarts. We'll put in all of your names into the goblet straightaway. So when you're name is read, please stand up so we can ensure no one has been missed –"

He stopped suddenly when Minerva came up and urgently whispered in his ear. "Erm, good point Headmistress. Since this is still quite a shock to many of you, Minerva suggested you all stand and when your name is read you sit. We hope there will be fewer, uh, injuries that way…" the minister trailed off, rubbing his head sheepishly. He realized Madam Pomphrey would be quite upset if she had to treat a bunch of bumps and bruises caused by the students fainting when the Minister told them to stand up after such a traumatic event.

Now that everyone was standing, the two Unspeakables alternated reading each name off before casting it into the goblet of fire. Thankfully there were only a couple issues to correct before all was ready to go.

"Now the goblet will disgorge the names starting with the last position. Remember that this isn't the order in which you will choose; it merely shows the odds you will have of getting first choice. I'll read the name, Unspeakable Firth will take that name and duplicate it the required number of times then place all slips into the drum near Unspeakable Robbins. Once the goblet extinguishes, all names will be drawn and we'll move on to drawing the actual order. Is this clear?"

Kingsley surveyed the group of miserable-looking students, a couple of whom actually nodded in response to his question. Nodding grimly to Unspeakable Firth, the witch cast one more complex spell at the goblet, causing the pillar of blue flame to shrink down below the rim. The flame then changed to green before rising up and popping a slip out into the Great Hall. Kingsley caught the slip and read off "Stan Shunpike" before giving the slip to Robbins. Robbins made no additional copies and cast the single slip into the drum.

Harry felt badly for Stan, who was really a decent bloke but unfortunately couldn't fight off an _Imperio_ curse from the Death Eaters. That mark on his record, along with being rather poor and not really the brightest guy in the world, meant he would have long odds to get a decent match.

Slowly the names popped out of the goblet, following roughly the order Harry and his Gryffindor friends predicted after reading about the criteria in the _Daily Prophet_. The first names of their core group to emerge were Dean Thomas and Hermione, as obviously being muggle-borns overshadowed their contributions to the war and scholastic achievements. Many snorted in disgust when Hermione's name came out before Zacharias Smith, Blaise Zabini, or Cormac McLaggen.

The next group were either prominent half-bloods or poor pure-bloods. Tracey Davis, Ginny Weasley, and – Harry shuddered when her name was read – Mandy Brocklehurst. The last three names to come out of the goblet were Blaise, Neville, and Harry.

"Why was I the last one out of the goblet?" he mumbled to Hermione, who was looking paler by the minute as Unspeakable Robbins made final preparations for the drawing. This brought her out of her panic – along with several friends sitting in the immediate vicinity – to stare incredulously at Harry.

"Are you daft, Harry? You defeated Voldemort! Without you, there wouldn't be a wizarding Britain!"

"But I'm a half-blood. Why didn't I come out behind someone like Neville? He did plenty of good things in the war, his family is rich, and he's a pure-blood."

Seeing Hermione was about to go into lecture mode, Neville abruptly cut into the conversation. "Harry, think about how badly it would reflect on the Wizengamot if you didn't get the best odds. Even though we may think their criteria are still bigoted, they know the people will turn on them if they don't acknowledge you killing Voldemort earns you the right to pick first."

"Neville's right, Harry. I'm sure the first criteria was 'kill Voldemort – get 100 points' or something like that," Hermione chipped in.

"Had I known that would be how they score this mess, I would have killed the tosser myself," grumbled Dean behind them, still feeling anxious about the relatively low spot his name came out of the goblet.

Kingsley's voice brought their attention back to the front. "We are now ready for the drawing. Minerva will draw out the slips without using magic and read the name. Unspeakable Robbins will then remove all those slips from the drum so the name cannot be drawn again. The first name drawn will have the first slot; the second out will have the second slot, and so forth. Any questions?"

This time even the handful of students who dutifully nodded the last time Kingsley asked if everyone understood were too shaken and pale to respond. Breathing a deep sigh, he motioned to Minerva to draw the first name. Even the Headmistress looked miserable as she waited for the drum to stop tumbling and thrust a shaky hand into its contents to draw out the first name. She unfolded the parchment and stared at it for a good 30 seconds before she cleared her throat. "The first name drawn is … Luna Lovegood."


	7. Chapter 7

**Drafting a Marriage**

* * *

**Chapter 7:**

Silence reigned in the Great Hall before, one by one, the students turned to look at Luna. For her part, Luna didn't have the normally vacant look she wore around the castle – it was a look of shock just like everyone else.

"Perhaps there's been a mistake," she finally whispered out. McGonagall merely shook her head and turned the parchment around so everyone could see, in clear black script, _Luna Lovegood_.

"Oh my," was all she could squeak out before hugging herself tightly and rocking slowly back and forth on the bench. No one had ever seen Luna so worked up and Padma, sitting next to her fellow Ravenclaw, immediately scooted closer so she could rub her back soothingly.

In the meantime, Unspeakable Robbins had already cleared all of Luna's other slips from the drum and spun it again. With a growing unease, the masses watched the drum stop and their Headmistress once again draw a slip out.

"Neville Longbottom," she called out after only a few seconds.

Neville wasn't sure whether to be relieved or sick, so he settled on putting his head on the table and wrapping his arms tightly over it as if he expected a tornado to suddenly strike.

When the drum stopped a third time, Minerva opened the parchment and almost sagged in relief. "Harry Potter," she stated and turned the parchment for everyone to see. Harry could only groan and soon joined Neville's position with his head down on the table.

"At least you have a high pick, mate," Ron commented from beside him. "That means you'll pretty much get any bird you want."

Hermione looked as though she would deck her redheaded friend while Harry grumbled, "Somehow that doesn't make me feel any better."

"The fourth pick will be … Susan Bones." Everyone nodded in acceptance; Susan had lost more to Voldemort's forces than anyone except Harry. She deserved to at least get this.

The fifth pick will be … Ron Weasley." Ron was the first person who looked pleased with the outcome, giving a significant look over to Annabeth sitting with some of her Hufflepuff friends.

McGonagall again paused for quite some time before reading the sixth pick. "The sixth pick will be … Lisa Turpin."

"Oh thank Merlin I'm already on the board!" Neville blurted out before blushing a bright red and hiding his face yet again. Lisa either didn't hear him or didn't care as she squealed in delight and hugged her friend Mandy.

Slowly, agonizingly, the drawing continued. Due to the whims of chance, a few people had higher picks than they anticipated. Among them were Tracey Davis, Hermione Granger, Parvati Patil, and Dean Thomas. Sadly, others had much lower picks than anticipated. These included Ginny Weasley, Padma Patil, Daphne Greengrass, and Hannah Abbot.

Finally the Headmistress fished out the last name in the drum –Stan Shunpike's position had not improved. Around the Great Hall students slowly recovered from their shock and began filtering out the doors and back to their dorm rooms. Meanwhile one of the Unspeakables conjured a large board showing the order of picks and affixed it to the wall. Harry chose to view this as a monolithic reminder of impending doom and realized that from now until the Christmas hols, he would have to get all his meals from the kitchen directly.

* * *

"Harry, have you done your defense essay yet?" Neville called across the dorm. Now that the wizarding world knew the two men had early picks it seemed every witch was trying their hardest to woo them. Being courageous Gryffindors, they again decided to hole themselves up in their dormitory as much as possible.

"Hmm?" grunted Harry, clearly immersed in his work and not paying attention to his friend.

"Defense, Harry. Have you done the essay yet?"

"Umm … yeah, here you go," he replied, tossing the rolled-up parchment to Neville.

Neville caught the parchment but continued to study Harry for a couple minutes. "What are you working on?" he inquired curiously. "You seem … troubled or something."

Harry ducked his head in shame for a bit before directing a piercing look toward his friend. "You promise you won't laugh?"

"On my magic."

After appraising Neville for a bit longer, Harry reluctantly rolled up a second piece of parchment and walked stiffly across the dorm room. Without a word he unrolled it and sat down on the trunk beside Neville's bed.

After adjusting his vision to read Harry's scrawl, Neville noticed it was a list – a list of witches.

Neville looked up at his friend only to see him hanging his head in shame. With a deep sigh, Neville opened his book bag and dug around until he found a folded piece of parchment. Unfolding it slowly he placed it in front of Harry's bowed head, cringing slightly at what his reaction would be.

Harry took one look at the list then looked up at Neville, shock etching his features. "You too?" he blurted out.

Neville could only nod sheepishly. "I reckon everyone has one of these, even if they won't admit to it. I think I waited a week before I realized I better do something like this. I would hate to blurt out the first name that came to mind when it comes time, yeah?"

Both boys shuddered at the thought momentarily before locking gazes. Despite being unsaid, they both came to the same conclusion; it was time to compare lists.

"I'm surprised Ginny isn't on this. So you two are done, eh?"

Harry ruffled his hair in discomfort; after all, he saw that Ginny had appeared on Neville's list. "Erm … yeah, I think so. We had a talk a few weeks back and I think we're square. Well, she hasn't attempted to hex me at least."

"Yet, Harry. She hasn't attempted to hex you yet," Neville corrected. Harry shot his friend a concerned look before Neville could no longer maintain his poker face and cracked a smile. "Piss off," Harry muttered but looked relieved nonetheless.

"You have a good list; these are all very nice witches," Harry said has he handed Neville back the parchment.

Neville couldn't help but eye Harry appraisingly. He really got to know his dorm mate far better this year – what with being his near constant study partner due to their witch-induced exile in the Gryffindor dormitory – and therefore was able to read his body language better. He was no Hermione, but Neville figured he was now a solid number two in the school at reading Harry. "Out with it, Harry. What are you thinking?"

Again Harry looked a bit nervous. After trying to start a couple times, he finally managed to mumble out, "I guess I … I just figured you … well, I thought you would have Hermione on the list as well."

A few seconds passed while Neville processed this observation. "Well, she's a wonderful, wonderful witch. I just figured either you or Ron would choose her."

"But you pick before me or Ron does," Harry pointed out, slowly saying each word as if explaining a complex topic to a first year.

Before Neville could think of a way to tactfully ask Harry about his feelings for Hermione, the door burst open to reveal Seamus and Dean. "Mates!" Seamus exclaimed loudly before seeing the two boys shuffling parchment out of view and looking decidedly guilty. Looking back and forth between the two, he looked to Dean and narrowed his eyes. Dean merely looked confused before a grin slowly formed on his face.

Whipping a folded piece of parchment out of his pocket he proclaimed, "Alright mates, let's see those lists!"

* * *

Hermione and a group of three witches were pouring through thick tomes of runes, working to complete yet another project. While they still had three days to complete their work, things weren't going as quickly as usual for this normally bright group.

"Luna, have you found the translation for this symbol yet," Hermione asked as she slid a parchment over to the blonde.

No response. While Luna wasn't the most engaged person even on 'good' days, she had truly been lost in her own world ever since the drawing on Halloween. As the silence stretched on, Padma Patil and Susan Bones looked up from their books and noticed that nervous, unfocused stare they recently associated with Luna.

"Luna?" Susan called again, touching the girl's arm to get her attention. Jumping slightly, Luna looked back and forth to the three witches now staring back at her with a mixture of concern, pity, and discomfort.

"Sorry … I must have been attacked by Nargles or something," Luna replied, feebly attempting to pass off her inattention.

Padma gently chided, "It's not Nargles, Luna. We can see the stress you're under. It's this marriage law, isn't it?"

Luna's large eyes began to well with tears as she nodded mutely to her house-mate. With a quivering whisper she managed to choke out, "With other things, I've been able to push away my anxiety. If I didn't have friends, I just embraced my own creatures. If someone didn't like me, I thought about other things to make me happy. This … I can't escape this."

"So … you have no idea who you'll choose?" Hermione questioned.

Luna gave a watery chuckle, which surprised the others. "Not in the slightest. I mean, there are certain wizards I fancy but I don't want to make them unhappy that I chose them. Some people don't think I'm the most normal of girls, you know."

The group couldn't help but smile at this. "I can see how some might think that," Susan replied. "But you are a very endearing witch; you should choose the person you want and they will soon realize just how wonderful you are." The other two nodded in agreement, trying their best to comfort Luna.

Luna seemed to be considering Susan's arguments, as her tears subsided. "Who are you three considering, then? Perhaps I could get some ideas?"

Hermione looked slightly taken aback by the notion but soon realized this was Luna being, well, Luna. "Erm, I don't know if I have anyone in particular in mind," she started when she realized both Padma and Susan were looking to her for the first response to Luna's question. "But I do have a list of criteria that I think would mean a good fit." Seeing the other girls waiting, she felt her cheeks flush in embarrassment. It's not like she had a wealth of dating experience to base her decisions on!

Looking down at the table and nervously twisting her quill in her hands, she plunged on. "Well, they should be intelligent because I would like to have someone I can discuss things with. They need to be at least open to muggle things, since I'll always have some portion of time in that world due to my parents. I would like a career, so someone who is also open-minded about a witches role in society. Umm …" She trailed off, thinking about what else she felt was important.

"Nothing about how they look?" asked Susan curiously.

"Well, obviously I would like him to be at least decent looking," she finally conceded. "But honestly I care more about the person they are than the, er, package they come in," she finished while blushing anew.

Each girl smiled, feeling better knowing that even Hermione cared somewhat about appearances. Padma finally broke the silence by asking, "If that's your criteria, why in Merlin's name did you date Ron then?"

The ensuing laughter led to a very red-faced Hermione, an angry Madame Pince, and four witches who had to abandon their research early due to being thrown out of the library.

* * *

Ron just dropped Annabeth off back at the Hufflepuff dorm room and was whistling an unidentifiable tune when he heard, "Oi! Weasley!"

Turning, Ron saw Justin Finch-Fletchley hurrying toward him. Grabbing Ron's arm, Justin dragged the redhead into a nearby classroom before closing and sealing the door.

Ron, who up to this point thought Justin was a decent bloke, eyed the other boy warily and discretely slid his wand out from his robes. "Justin, what the bloody hell are you doing?"

Justin realized the tension in Ron's posture and put his wand down on a desk and slowly backed away. "Sorry, Ron. I just wanted to talk." Relaxing a bit, Ron motioned for Justin to say his piece.

Taking a deep breath, the Hufflepuff started, "Ron, I wanted to ask you a question. I don't need an answer right away, but I at least wanted you to think about it."

Justin waited for Ron to say … something … but the silence stretched. Steeling himself again, Justin continued, "Being a muggle-born I don't have a very good position in this marriage draft. I recall you asking the Minister if we could exchange spots …" He let the question linger, just to plant the seed in Ron's mind. His father was a businessman and, being the eldest son, Justin slowly learned the ropes that he would one day take over. His father's first rule: don't ask for a decision unless you are out of time. Plant the seeds instead and let the idea grow so you can nuture it properly.

"So you have a proposition for me?" Ron replied slowly, cottoning on to where this was headed.

Justin shook his head and reiterated, "I have a question. My question is what would it take for you to give up your spot?"

Ron stared back with narrowed eyes, rubbing his chin slowly. "So … like a certain number of galleons?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. I just want you to think about it. There are a lot of things to consider and all I'm asking is that you consider them. Yeah?"

The signs of concentration stayed on Ron's face but Justin could tell the wheels were turning. Slowly Ron started to nod while continuing to rub his chin. "Yeah, I can consider that."

"That's all I ask," Justin replied, trying to maintain his poise. "Just let me know if you want to talk." With that he picked up his wand and turned to flick it at the door. Once unlocked and open, he exited into the hallway to head back toward his common room.

Ron stood there deep in thought for a beat before fishing around in his pockets for some spare parchment and a quill. With new purpose, he headed toward the Great Hall in order to consult the drafting board.


	8. Chapter 8

**Drafting a Marriage**

* * *

**Chapter 8:**

"Harry, are you in there?" Hermione called from outside the seventh year boys' dormitory.

"Come in, Hermione!"

Hermione opened the door slowly, ensuring adequate warning in case Harry or any of the other boys were scrambling for cover. Spending a year in a tent with Harry meant the usual modesty rules no longer applied to them, but she didn't feel that way about the other denizens of the dormitory.

"Here are the books you wanted; I'm done with my essay so you and Neville can keep them as long as you like."

"Thanks Hermione," Harry gratefully replied and indicated with a wave that she should set them down on his desk. After doing so, she turned and was just about to head out the door before Harry called out, "Hermione, wait!"

She turned and shot him a quizzical look, one hand resting on the door and waiting to see if she should swing it wider or close it shut again. "Erm, do you have a class or something you need to run off to?"

"No," she replied slowly, her features still etched in confusion. "Do you need to talk about something?" Seeing Harry continue to fidget, she took this as a 'yes' and closed the door softly before taking a seat on the foot of his bed. "What's on your mind, Harry?"

Harry continued to fidget, keeping his eyes downcast as he tried to figure out how to start such a conversation with his best female friend. "Hermione, do you know what you're going to do about this marriage law?"

Now it was Hermione's turn to fidget as she quickly removed her concerned gaze from Harry's head and stared into the bedspread as if it may hold the secret to her situation. "Not – not really," she finally conceded. "I have some ideas about what type of person I think would be a good match, but I don't have a clue as to who that person might actually be."

A rare uncomfortable silence stretched between them before Harry spoke up again. "What type of person are you looking for?" Hermione took a deep breath then haltingly began listing off the same criteria shared with her girlfriends in the library – intelligent, comfortable in the Muggle world, open-minded about her having a career, some physical attraction. With each criteria listed, Harry steeled his courage to go on with the conversation.

"Would you ever consider … me … to be a good match?"

Hermione looked up sharply and saw the anxiety swirling in his green eyes at delivering such a bold proclamation. Emotions flooded her mind and left her momentarily bewildered on how to act on them; she never pictured herself in this situation – her best friend basically asking if they should be a couple. A married couple.

"Harry, can I ask you a question first?"

"Erm, sure," Harry responded, thrown off by this redirection.

"When we were in the tent and Ron left, you knew I was very upset right?" Harry nodded slowly, gazing at her with still-confused features. "And when I was upset, did you think to try and comfort me?"

Harry jogged his memory to those horrible days back in the tent – his own feelings of betrayal, the despair brought on by both the situation and the horcrux effects, and a distraught and sobbing Hermione. He could picture it now – she was curled up in a chair, wet from running out in the rain to try and stop Ron from leaving and sobbing uncontrollably. He went over to Ron's now-abandoned bed and picked up some blankets to put around her … then he walked off and got in his own bed.

A pained, clouded expression crossed his features in realization and he turned toward Hermione and grabbed her hands. "I'm so, so sorry for not helping you more," he croaked out.

Even now, tears welled up in Hermione's eyes as she squeezed Harry's hands and gave a small nod in acceptance to his plea for forgiveness.

A few moments passed between them, both too emotional to continue conversation. Finally Hermione recovered and started, "Harry, it was a difficult time for all of us. Had we not been under the strain, all three of us would have reacted differently that day. But before I can answer your question, I need to understand why you didn't try and comfort me?"

"I thought … I thought you just forgave me?"

"I did, Harry. It's just that … I need to understand things. You know that."

Harry took a deep breath and pulled his hands apart from Hermione. Why did he react the way he did? He clearly knew how much Ron's departure hurt her, and in hindsight he could see that he did a piss-poor job of comforting her.

"The easy answer would be that it was the horcrux's influence, or perhaps Voldemort's," Harry started. "Or I suppose I could claim it was how I was raised by the Dursleys – that I never really developed that whole sympathetic and comforting side." Harry paused a moment, to shrug then slowly shake his head. "I think that's part of it probably."

"But not all."

"No, not all. I think … I think I was so consumed by my own hurt and emotions I probably couldn't see what I could do to help you."

Hermione looked at her friend with a wistful smile before again reaching out to pat him on the leg. "That's what I figured as well," she whispered.

The silence stretched between them as each digested their thoughts and feelings about that fateful day and the emotions that surrounded it. But unlike earlier, this silence was once again comfortable.

"So … about my question," Harry tentatively asked, breaking the silence.

"I think we could make it work, Harry," Hermione started, looking pensive as her mind assimilated all the points of this latest conversation. "I think the real question is whether it is what we want, though."

Harry's momentary relief crashed abruptly. "I don't follow."

Hermione began to fidget uncomfortably as she tried to think of a way to explain this to her friend. "Harry, you have the third pick. Assuming Luna doesn't choose you –"

"Luna is going to choose me?" Harry blurted out, unsure what to think about such a scenario.

"I don't know, Harry. She didn't know who she wanted to choose when I talked with her last. Although I'm sure you would be one of the few she would consider.

"But as I was saying, only Luna and one other witch will be chosen. Out of all the eligible witches in England, you would prefer to be with me?"

"Out of all the witches in England, I know you the best."

Hermione narrowed her eyes slightly. "But that doesn't mean I'm the best choice for you. I think we're compatible – very compatible, even. We share a deep friendship and a long history. But do you feel anything – physically feel anything – when you see me? Basically, are you in love with me?"

Harry could only blink several times in response. Was Hermione really giving him a speech about making an emotional decision over a logical decision? "But I fit all of your criteria," he argued.

"You do," she conceded. "While I think you're attractive, I don't feel 'attracted' to you. Do you know what I mean?"

Again Harry thought about this fine point his friend was trying to make. Did he think Hermione was an attractive girl? While not a stunning beauty, she did have an inner beauty that Harry felt overruled any qualms about her wild hair and pretty, but not breathtaking, features. But did that mean he was 'attracted' to her?

"I guess I don't really know," Harry finally conceded.

Hermione leaned forward and stared intently at the man across from her. "That matters to me, Harry. I need to feel you're attracted to me and I need to feel that towards you. You've known me a long time, so if you don't know by now …" She shrugged her shoulders lightly and put up a brave smile. "I would say it's not meant to be."

While Harry knew he was probably going to be rejected even before beginning this conversation, hearing it from Hermione directly made it final. "How are you going to figure out who does that for you before Christmas?" he asked, trying to keep the tone of his voice light despite the disappointment he felt.

Hermione sighed and leaned back before admitting, "No idea." She then turned a significant look toward Harry, "But at least I'm going about my life and talking with other people. You and Neville are holed up in this dormitory except for classes and the occasional meal –"

"We usually nick some food from the kitchens or ask Kreature to bring us something," Harry supplied, immediately feeling abashed when he noticed Hermione's patented 'I told you so' glare upon hearing his response.

"As I was saying, you and Neville need to get out and at least talk with some of the girls here. I know there are … issues … with you two being out there but you need to at least get to know a few girls to see if you feel anything. Do you have an idea on what type of witch would be a good match for you?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, "Er, yeah. I have a few ideas."

"Good. Have you written them down yet? You should write them down so you will remember your criteria even when blinded by some witch's … er … physical charms."

Being too panic-stricken to make snarky comments about Hermione's 'physical charms' comment, Harry nodded slowly to indicate he had indeed written … something … down.

Hermione brightened considerably. "That's great, Harry! I'm glad to see you're taking this seriously. So let's see what you have; maybe I can help you?"

"No, that's okay," he hastily replied, unconsciously backing away from his friend a bit. "You've done more than enough to help me already."

Hermione cocked her head to the side, then narrowed her eyes in suspicion. "You haven't created a list, have you? Harry, this is important! It affects the rest of your life! The wizarding world isn't like the muggle one when it comes to annulling marriages – you'll be pretty much stuck with your choice forever!" With one last disappointed sigh Hermione folded her arms and shook her head sadly at the ill-prepared wizard in front of her.

"Don't look at me like that!" Harry hotly retorted. "I hate it when you look at me like that," he mumbled, feeling again like he was being punished for simply being himself. "I do have a list, Hermione, but it's not … not a list of criteria like you have."

Hermione looked momentarily placated before a confused look settled across her face. "If it's not a list of criteria, what is it?"

Now Harry began blushing, really, really not wanting to have this conversation with her. Unfortunately he knew Hermione and she wouldn't let this go. Maybe it was a good thing she didn't think they should get married …

"Well, it's … ah …" he started, trying to figure out how to describe this to Hermione without getting hexed – or worse, lectured at.

Suddenly comprehension dawned on her face, proving once again that maybe she was too smart for her own good. "It's just a list of witches, am I right?"

Cringing slightly, Harry nodded miserably.

Hermione looked somewhat smug, then slightly mischievous. "Let's see it, Harry. I can tell you loads about these witches." She then cast a significant look in his direction before adding, "Loads of details."

For some reason that even Harry couldn't quite fathom, suddenly turning his list over to Hermione for scrutiny didn't seem like such a bad idea. After smoothing out the parchment on the bedspread between them, Hermione took a cursory look though the list and began nodding slowly. She then tensed and, with her head still bent over the parchment, asked in a quiet voice, "Are these in any particular order, Harry?"

"Erm, yeah."

The tense silence returned between them. "You … you have me ranked first?" she whispered out finally.

_Oh shite!_ "Well, ah, yeah I did." Harry finally admitted.

Without warning a frizzy-haired missile launched, engulfing him in a fierce hug. Totally bewildered, Harry just sat there woodenly hoping that she wasn't really trying to squeeze the life out of him like a huge basilisk.

"That's probably the nicest compliment I've ever had. Thank you Harry!" Upon hearing those words, Harry relaxed a bit and returned his friend's hug.

"So … does this mean you've changed your mind?"

"I'm afraid not, Harry," Hermione responded with a sigh, despite still remaining latched to him in her hug. "Now let's look at the other names you have before I change my mind."


End file.
